To Walk Like a Warrior
by Unbiased Abyss
Summary: Mark, a framed fugative from a noble house of Bern, flees to the Sacaen Plains in an attempt to avoid execution. In the plains he meets Lyn, a plainswoman who wishes to become a great warrior, and Rolidiad, a stange man with a mystery about him. When Lyn is discovered to be the granddaughter of the dying Marquess of Caelin, it is up to Mark to bring them together. LynXMark
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own nothing.

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Mark hunched over his horse as exhaustion forced his brown eyes to half-closed and it was only through his sheer willpower that he was able to keep them open that much.

His story was a simple one. The son of a Bern nobleman, his house was well-known for the tacticians that came from it and he was no exception. He was taught from a young age in tactics, history, mathematics, and several other fields of study and he demonstrated a mastery in each that could only have been expected from one of his family. One of his house.

At fourteen years old he was commanding men in the battlefield to rout bandits, pirates, and other such vermin. After four years of service he was stationed as a defensive tactician for the whole of eastern Bern. He spent a year of his life making plans and eventually his name reached the King of Bern's ears. He was taken into the King's presence and given the offer to help the King with planning the defense of all of Bern. It was an honor for Mark and he found himself in the company of several of his family members including his father, elder brother, and elder sister. He had smiled when he saw that it was house Struss that held the majority in the planning room.

He spent another year working on defensive strategies but that all changed when he was forced to flee the country. He had been heading to the War Room when he heard talking coming from it. He usually wasn't one to eavesdrop but when he heard the words, "...make sure he is dead," he couldn't stop himself.

The first voice Mark recognized as the King's but the second he had never heard before. It was feminine and sounded like music but held no emotion to it like a songbird who was unable to sing. The voice said, "We always get the job done, sir. Do you have a preferred method of death or time?"

"I care not as long as he is dead. The boy has been a thorn in my side for far too long," the King answered.

It wasn't hard for Mark to put together what was going on. It was surprisingly well-known throughout the noble families that the King despised the very existence of his son, Zephiel. That was the only 'boy' that the King would have killed.

"I will have the best assassin the Black Fang has put to the task. Now, we have another problem to talk about."

"What's that?" the King questioned.

Mark was taken by surprise when a gorgeous woman with flowing black hair and strange golden eyes appeared in front of him and his mind took off with options and evaluations. The woman had teleported, something only a person powerful with magic could do and she had known that he was listening. However, if she had known he was listening why did she wait for so long to reveal him? It was almost like she wanted him to hear what was being planned.

But why?

Was this group that she was associated with not ready for this type of job? No, if that was the case then she wouldn't be having that meeting with the King. So, that meant that she wanted something but the only thing she would gain from the situation was time, but, again, why? Why did she need more time? Why put off or possibly lose a potential gold mine?

He didn't have enough information to answer that but what he did know was that he was in big trouble.

"It seems," the woman said, "that we have a fly on the wall."

The King exited the room and when he saw Mark he at least had the sense of self to look remorseful. "How much did you hear, Mark?"

"Enough, I suppose," he answered. No use denying what he had heard.

The man he had come to somewhat respect nodded grimly. "You know what I must do now?"

"You don't have to do anything, however, that would work out better for me than you, in this case," he said as he scanned his peripherals for anything that he could use to get out of the predicament he was in.

The man smirked and said, "Your wit and sarcasm were the two things that I liked most about you, Mark."

"Then I am sure that it would be terrible for you to deprive yourself of my best qualities. Well, those and being alive but the alive part may just be my opinion."

"Sir," the eerily beautiful woman asked, "do you wish for my to silence him?"

The King, for his part, hesitated before he nodded and said, "Make it painless. James Struss has always been a good friend of mine and his son deserves better than a pain filled end." He looked at Mark and said, "If it helps I will tell your Father that you died saving my life from an assassin."

"Somehow that doesn't comfort me whatsoever," Mark had snapped back. "Now, this was a good conversation but it seems that if I am going to die I will do it under my own terms."

When he finished talking he rushed past the King in a sudden burst of motion. The woman snarled and when the King stepped clumsily out-of-the-way she unleashed a fireball down the short hallway.

Mark jumped and his right side smashed into the glass window at the end of the hall. Just as he hit it the fireball smashed into his left arm in a blur of heat and strangely solid fire. Pain became his new best friend as he plummeted down to the Bern River. The river was deep in the area he landed and he sunk a ways down. Hitting the water had hurt more than he thought it would have but with the cooling water flowing over his left arm he figured that it was a lesser of two evils.

The rest had become a blur for the shaggy brown-haired man. He got his horse from a stable that was outside the city and used the forest as cover as he traveled as fast as he could north. The way he looked at it the Sacae Plains were a better place to go than Lycia because there would be fewer people to see a man travelling quickly away from Bern with a burned left arm. No doubt the King would say that he, Mark, tried to assassinate him and it was only due to the luck of a passing court mage that the attempt was thwarted.

His life as Mark Struss was officially over. That would have filled him with complete dread if he taken the time to think about it but he kept himself busy moving, hiding, and taking care of his infected left arm.

It took some time but he eventually found himself in the plains, exhausted, and with his left arm so badly infected that he guessed that he had a larger chance dying from the arm than surviving it.

He forced his head up from his horse which took him some considerable effort and glanced around in a fevered haze. The quick motions made him grow dizzy and he vomited off to the side. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his tan shirt and settled back down on the horse. It was only a matter of time, he supposed, before he died.

Suddenly, in the distance, he saw a flash of blue and heard something like a thunder-clap. First he thought he had imagined it but his horse moved toward the flash in a slow walk. He pondered that. His horse was weird. It wasn't as skittish as horses often were and it actually seemed to demonstrate curiosity at things that were out of the ordinary, like that blue thingy. Weird horse.

His brain must have been moving far slower than he was used too because when he looked around again his horse was almost at the point were the blue thingy was. He could smell something burning and around the area were mounds of thrown up dirt and rocks. He glanced slowly in front of the horse and saw some form of creator but he didn't get a look into it because his horse turned slightly which made his gaze move as well. Bad horse.

His eyes focused again and this time he saw someone riding toward him on a slim horse that the plains people favored. He could make out long bluish-green-hair the likes of which he had never seen and the body was definitely female. He made to sit straight but it seemed that his body had enough of his stupidity and instead dropped him to the ground. His vision faded slowly. Stupid body.

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Note: This has a cross-over in it but it won't be revealed for some time.

Please review, fav, and follow.

Until next time...  
-Unbiased Abyss


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem.

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Warmth. Something soft was under his back and a light something covered him. He was pleasantly warm and his arm didn't burn with pain but only ached slightly. That was good.

He allowed himself to lay still as his brain caught up to him. His stupid horse had taken him to a crater or something of the like and he saw a woman riding toward him. Then he felt bad for his horse which carried him for so long and got off in a manly manner. He didn't fall off in a heap, it was just the quickest way for a man.

Satisfied that he remembered what happened before he passed out he started to test his outer extremities. He moved his toes and fingers in slight twitches and flexed his larger muscles slowly as to not draw attention to himself. He didn't feel anything tied around him. Strange. That meant that whoever was taking care of him didn't mean any harm towards him. That was good, he hoped.

Taking a chance he opened his eyes and shut them immediately with a groan of pain. Some bastard had rigged the light to hurt his eyes when he opened them. What an ingenious trap!

"Oh, you're awake," a strong voice, obviously female, said.

Mark took a chance and opened his eyes again. The light hurt them but much less than his first attempt. He took in his surroundings as he looked for the woman who spoke. He was in a large tent with chests arranged on one side of it. He looked to his right and saw the same woman who was riding toward him before he passed out. She sat on her knees and was wiping the face of a man who was on a small pad with a blanket over him. The man had short black hair, a shadowing of facial hair, and was out cold.

"That or I am sleeping," he grunted as he sat up.

The woman hurried over to him and looked him over with worry in her eyes. "You really shouldn't be sitting up, sir."

"I'm fine," he said. "My head and body ache but I am fine. Better than when you found me." He looked at her and bowed his head. "Thank you for caring for me."

"It wasn't a problem," the woman said and smiled. "What's your name? My name is Lyn."

"Mark," he responded automatically and then mentally kicked himself. He was an A-grade smart shit sometimes. The story of an assassin escaping Bern named Mark Struss with a badly burned left arm had to have started spreading around. Hell, this woman may have been aware of it.

"Mark," she said slowly. "What's your family name, Mark?"

It was an innocent question and he suspected that she had not heard the stories that had to have been spreading. That was good. "Cromwell," he answered. It was as good a family name as any. He peered at the other man in the tent and asked, "Who's he?"

"I was hoping you might know," Lyn replied. She must have seen a question forming in his mind because she continued, "I found him in a crater near you. I thought you two might have been friends travelling together but it seems that I was mistaken."

"So he hasn't woken up? Also, how long have I been out?"

"It's only been a little over day since I found you," the bluish-green-haired woman said. "You had a nasty infection on you left arm and your body was suffering from exhaustion. I applied some vulnerary to your arm and added some to the little water you drank." She glanced at the other man, "He was in a far worse condition than you."

"How so?"

"He had large cuts, scratches, burns, and several broken bones over his entire body. The vulnerary I applied helped some but he is still in bad condition. I was actually thinking about traveling to Bulgar and ask a healer for aid." As she spoke she kept her eyes on the man. They were filled with concern.

This Lyn was a good woman, Mark decided. Anyone who would take in two injured men and nurse them back to health was alright in his book.

"Tell me, Lyn," he said, "are you the only one who took care of myself and this man? I have heard stories of the hospitality of the nomad people and would like to thank all involved."

Her face dropped a little and her eyes grew sad. "My tribe was destroyed six months ago..."

As she told him about the destruction of her tribe at the hands of the Taliver Bandits Mark couldn't help but to mentally kick himself right between the legs. He was such an inconsiderate ass. True, he couldn't possibly have known that the woman's tribe was destroyed but that didn't change the fact that he brought it up.

Lyn sniffed as she finished her story. "But," she said, "I am going to live on for my tribe."

Mark nodded slowly. It was good that she wanted to live. As terrible as it might sound he didn't want to deal with a suicidal woman. The thought of just giving up and killing ones self was pathetic in his opinion. Jumping out of that window back in Bern may have qualified as suicidal but he had estimated a reasonable chance of survival and it was better than trying to fight both the King and a skilled magic user at once. He liked living, so he took his best chance and jumped.

"Oh my," Lyn gasped and Mark looked over to see that the other man in the tent had his eyes open and was looking right at them.

The man had dark grey eyes and were focused on Lyn as she moved over toward him. "Es grdatc," the man said in a deep tenor. His voice had a rough sound to it like two rocks being ground together.

Lyn stopped, tilted her head, and said, "What?"

The mystery man closed his eyes and said, "Es grdatc kith murli."

Lyn looked at Mark and asked, "Do you know what he said?"

"I know several languages," Mark said, "but I have never heard the one he is speaking before." He sat up straighter and said to the man, "Do you know Eliben? Milkath? Kro?"

The man looked at him and said, "Luth miltar."

It was Mark's turn to say, "What?"

Lyn sat down in between the two men and a little closer to their feet so that they could all see each other. She placed her hands on her chest and said, "Lyn."

She repeated a few times and Mark did the same after the third time. "Mark," he said. He than indicated the man.

The guy must have caught onto what they were doing because he nodded slowly, place a hand on his chest, and said, "Rolidiad." He then pointed at Lyn and said her name and did the same with Mark.

"So," the brown-haired man said, "he doesn't speak any language I have ever heard before. That sucks."

"We'll have to work with him and teach him our language," Lyn said like it was the easiest thing in the world. Most wouldn't have done that for the man saying that it would be too much work. She was definitely a good woman.

Mark and Lyn talked for a little longer, mostly about life on the plains, customs of the people, and other things that Mark found curiosity in. They also spent some time working with Rolidiad; teaching him some words like tent, chest, man, woman, and Mark had attempted to teach him a few curses but Lyn's scolding eyes stopped him.

Lyn eventually left the tent saying that she had some things to take care of and left the two men alone. It didn't bother Mark much that the black-haired grey-eyed man didn't speak his language as he found some entertainment in teaching the man Eliben. He racked his brain to figure out what language the man spoke but he didn't know a language that was even similar to the one the man spoke and that intrigued him to no end.

There was something he did learn about his new acquaintance, Rolidiad, from teaching him. The man was a natural at picking up other languages. Mark had met others that could snatch up languages like a pickpocket could purses and they generally had a common background; they each, for the most part, had learned several languages when they were young. It was apparent in Rolidiad because the man, when he tried repeating Mark, spoke with only a slight accent. It was a strange thing that he had never heard before and it made what he said sound a little more mysterious than it normally would

As he taught, Mark thought about his options and he found them limited. He could travel, eventually get caught by Bern soldiers, and get executed but that didn't sound the least bit fun. He could hide in one of the many cities of Elibe, grow old, never take a wife due to fear of Bern finding them and killing her, and die a hermit. He would almost take the execution than a lonely death. Almost.

He had little other choice but to take a boat to another continent. He had heard about on to the east that was filled with exotic fruits and women. That sounded fun. So, he just had to make it to a port city and set sail. Assuming he made it to the port and survived the trip he would be set. It wasn't his best plan, in fact it was one of his worst, but he didn't have any other options. If he didn't disappear it would only be a matter of time before Bern found him and that would be bad.

Maybe he had pleased St. Elimine in some way because as he was just settling his mind on his decision and teaching Rolidiad the word, 'expedite,' (how he had gotten to that word he had no idea) Lyn ran into the tent. She was breathing fast and her eyes were wide with fright.

"There are bandits attacking Mor!" she exclaimed. "I can see the smoke of large fires from here!"

Not good. Bandits bad. Mark got shakily to his feet and asked, "What are we going to do?"

"We?" She asked. "I have to help. No offense intended, Mark, but you don't look well enough to go into battle."

If he were honest he would have agreed and laid back down on his bed but he had a hard time doing nothing when others were in trouble. His entire family was like that to an extent and he wouldn't change it for the world.

"I can use a blade fine and if I stand back as a support it will be easier on my body and you since I'll have your back," he said. "I won't stare much, promise."

She glared at him but a smile touched the corner of her lips. "You're sure?"

"It wouldn't sit right with me to do nothing when others are in trouble," he said seriously.

Somehow, Mark had no idea how, but Rolidiad must have guessed at what was going on based on the concern in Lyn's voice and the conviction in his own but the man pushed himself up off the bed and stood with a grace that shouldn't have been possible for a man so covered with bandages.

Now that the man was standing Mark guessed that the man was about six feet tall, two inches taller than him, and was built. The bandages did little to hide the cut muscles that moved the man and he didn't waver in the slightest from his injuries.

Lyn stared at the man and pointed at his bandages and then the bed as she said, "To hurt. Bed."

Rolidiad just looked at her as he walked over to a pile of clothes and pulled on a black leather vest with no sleeves. The vest had several patch jobs and stitching from past battles and it was obvious to Mark that the man was a warrior through and through. The way he ignored the clear pain that he was in, the dense muscle that built him, and his clothing were testaments to the fact.

Mark laughed lightly as Rolidiad crouched down to pull on brown leather boots and said to Lyn, "The guy can't understand you, Lyn. Anyways, it seems to me that he will come with us regardless of what we do so we might as well have him in the back with me. You can lead point while the two injured men hold the rear flank."

"I don't like it," she said and sighed, "but I have little choice. If I tell you to run, you run. Am I understood?"

"Like muddy water," Mark said and grinned.

He found his clothes in a neat pile near Rolidiad's and pulled on his travel-stained white silk shirt and soft leather boots. He made a mental note to purchase new clothing at the next town he visited.

He looked over at Rolidiad and saw the man buckling a sword belt around his waist. His sword was in an odd sheath that looked like someone took a normal sheath, cut the bottom three-quarters off of it, and called it good leaving most of the blade naked. It wasn't a terrible design when Mark considered it because the sheath wouldn't get in the way of a fight for someone who was in the midst of a large battle.

Mark looked at Lyn and asked, "Do you have a sword I could borrow until I can buy a replacement?"

She throw over a sheathed blade that was hanging from a poll and when he inspected it he found that, while it was a little chipped and dull from use, it was a functional iron sword. "Many thanks."

He buckled it around his waist and the three of them exited the tent. The outside of the tent was a simple nomad set up. There was a clothesline, a fire pit with a pot of water over it, and two horses, one of which was his own.

Having little to no training on how to fight from horseback he said, "I think it would be better for me to go on foot. I can't fight from a horse."

"Nor I," Lyn said.

"Alright," he muttered as he walked over to Rolidiad. He placed an arm on the man's shoulder and said with animated gestures, "We are covering the rear. You stand to the left and I'll stand to the right. Okay?"

The man walked over to the spot that Mark pointed at and looked at Lyn and him expectantly. Mark went to his spot and said to Lyn, "Ready when you are."

**-To Walk Like a Warrior-**

Mor, for as much of it that Mark could see, was a collection of tents from several nomad tribes that had settled down to form a temporary city. Lyn explained on their way there that it was set up every year for only three months for trade and meeting with friends and family. Because it was only a temporary town and there was relatively little bandit activity in the Sacae Plains a wooden or stone wall was never erected for protection.

Mark took in as much of the situation as he could. He, Lyn, and Rolidiad were moving as fast as possible along a ridge near the tent city and he judged from the fires that were eating away at a few of the tents on the south side that the bandits attacked from the south. What could he say, he was a genius. From the relatively few fires he guessed that there would be few bandits, seven max, that would have to be dealt with.

He called ahead to Lyn, "I thought you plains people were well-known for your sword play and archery? Can't the people here handle this?"

"Normally yes," she shot back, "but the fighters are out on a quithi, an honor calling, to judge a tribesman who has lost his honor. These bandits planned this attack for when there would be the fewest warriors in Mor as possible."

Well shit, that sucked. What did he have to work with then: a swordswoman of unknown skill and two injured men. Great, all he needed now was some stone and a chisel and he could carve out their gravestones for them. For now, all they could do was find the enemy, identify their number, and he could think of a plan then.

The ridge let them down around the south of Mor and as they got closer they crossed paths with their first enemy. The man was huge and covered in bulging muscle that his skin seemed to only barely contain. His shit brown hair was matted and filthy and he smelt terrible.

The bandit roared as he charged them and Lyn dashed ahead to engage the beast of a man. A massive axe swung down on the blue-green-haired woman but she gracefully danced to the side and swiped her blade at the man, catching him in the throat. Blood poured from the wound and the bandit dropped to the ground.

"Well done," Mark cheered.

Lyn turned to look at him, her eyes burning with anger, and said, "We have to find the rest of them."

"Lyn!" an elderly voice called and the group turned to see an old woman walking hurriedly toward them.

"Yunthi!" Lyn yelled and she ran to the old woman.

The old woman looked Lyn over in a critical manner and asked, "Are you alright child? I say you fight that bandit and feared the worst."

"I'm fine. Do you know how many there were, Yunthi? Do you know where they are?"

"Only three, child. They attack only when our warriors are away, the cowards." She spat on the ground and said, "The other two must be at the gathering ger. It's down this path." She indicated a road that the tents made.

Lyn nodded and took off down the road.

Mark cursed and followed her. The first thing about fighting in a battle than any tactician was taught was don't let emotion rule. It was also a rule for fighters in battles and it seemed that it was a rule that Lyn hadn't heard before. Emotions were good and all but they also clouded judgement. In Lyn's case it clouded her thoughts on waiting for him and Rolidiad to catch up to her and put her in a bad situation if both of the bandits that were left attacked her at once.

His breath heavy, Mark ran down the road as fast as his aching body could take him. He found a small bit of satisfaction in running faster and his language challenged companion but then the man was also far more injured than he was so it was to be expected. He hated thinking about things from all angles sometimes. It really limited his ability to feel good about himself.

He cursed when the central tent, a massive thing made from red, orange, and blue fabric, came into view. In front of it he saw Lyn with a bandit behind her and another one so large it made the first one they came across seem small in comparison. Both of them attacked at once and Lyn was hard pressed in dodging and parrying their attacks.

She let out a scream when the front bandit's axe bit into her left leg.

Mark's mind burned. Soldier wounded. Location of wound: mid-thigh of left leg. Will cause serious problems with maneuverability and concentration. Soldier's combat ability cut down to forty percent. Chances of defeating both opponents: seventeen percent. No other soldiers nearby for support. No range weapons available. Environment consists of tents surrounding combatants with one large one behind highest risk enemy. Direction of wind to the south. Plan analyzed. Eighty-three percent chance of success. Commerce plan.

Mark pulled his sword out from his sheath and bellowed in to the air. It was a mindless yell, one mostly to get the attention of everyone around then put fear into them. He looked at Rolidiad and yelled again as he pointed at the bandit behind Lyn. The man must have understood what Mark was trying to get across because he changed his course toward the bandit.

Mark took his sword in one hand, brought it behind his head, thought a quick prayer, and threw his blade with all his might all the while bellowing his mindless yell. His sword arced high into the air but he didn't watch it as he charged toward the woman who got him into the risky situation in the first place. He got between her and the bandit just as the echo of snapping ropes started to fill the air.

The wound wasn't life threatening but it was bad enough that she would have trouble walking on it. She winced as she put to much weight onto it and yelled, "Run, Mark! I can't beat him!"

Mark, as much as he wanted to, didn't turn around and scold her. It would have been a cool dramatic effect for what he had planned but he was to damn scared for one and he had no idea what the bandit would do for two. So, he continued his mindless yell as he pointed and waved his arms at the bandit he was facing.

The bandit laughed at Mark and said, "Do you think you can take Batta the Beast?"

Mark didn't feel bad at all about the relief he felt at finding out that the bandit was an idiot. He continued to yell and the bandit never saw the rush of tent fabric fall on top of him, knocking him to the ground and blinding him. Mark pointed at the bandit, looked at Lyn, and let out one mindless yell.

Lyn needed no invitation as she dashed forward and thrust her blade into the bandit's chest. She limped over to him, staring at him, and said, "I told you to run."

Mark shot a glare at her and said, "I stopped listening to you when you let your emotions dictate your actions, foolish woman."

Her face started to turn red with anger at being insulted but he was having none of it and started speaking before she could. "You handled that first bandit fine, I'll give you that, but when you heard from that old woman where these other two were you shot off like a bat out of hell. You didn't even think about what you would do when you got there and had to face two opponents. If you were thinking, you would have gone slow enough for Rolidiad and I to keep pace with you and you wouldn't have had to fight two opponents at once. Let me ask you something, do you have any formal training with a sword?"

He must have sounded ridiculously angry because Lyn had gone from red to white as he scolded her and she muttered her answer, "A little."

"Did you have any real training for how to fight two opponents at once?"

She shook her head and tears started to come down her face. She sat down on her uninjured hip and covered her face with her hands.

Now he felt like an ass. He knelt next to her and gently wrapped his arms around her. She leaned heavily into his should as she cried.

He closed his eyes and asked, "That was your first kill wasn't it?"

He felt her nod.

He sighed. "Listen, life is precious and I am not going to tell you that the pain you feel will go away with time. These men made their choices and those choices brought them here. Those choice threatened the lives of the people of Mor. You had no choice but to end them before they hurt or killed anyone. You didn't do anything wrong."

"It hurts," she cried.

"It will, Lyn. It will."

She cried for a bit longer and when her tears stopped they applied some vulnerary to her thigh, stitched it (thank St. Elimine for the pain relief that vulnerary gave), and bandaged it.

Mark stood slowly, his muscles, not appreciating the work of running him to the city, stabbed themselves with needles to torture him. He offered Lyn a hand and said, "In the battle field; think first, emotions second."

She nodded and accepted his hand. When she was standing she asked, "Where is Rolidiad?"

Mark looked over his shoulder and saw the man standing next to the dead body of the bandit he went after. His arms were crossed and he watched them with a light smile on his face. He jerked his head toward the man for Lyn's sake.

She saw him and limped over to him with Mark coming behind her. He said he would watch her rear, damn it, and this was the first real opportunity he had. He did his duty diligently.

Lyn looked Rolidiad over and saw no other injuries on him. She knew it was pointless but asked, "Are you alright?"

He tilted his head at her, a sign that she and Mark learned meant he had no idea what they had said. He looked into her emerald-green eyes and placed a warm hand on her shoulder. She was about five foot six and a slim figured woman so when she stood that close to silent man she looked tiny in comparison. He studied her eyes for a short time and then smiled. He nodded and walked to the south of the tent city.

"What was that about?" Lyn wondered aloud.

"That," Mark said as he stepped up to her side, "was him making sure you were alright. Everyone goes through their first kill differently and each need their own form of comfort but the rule that goes with the first kill is to never leave the person alone. I have heard stories of people killing themselves because they couldn't handle the stress and emotional toll that the deed takes."

"So, Rolidiad was checking to make sure that I was alright emotionally?" she questioned.

"Exactly." Mark started walking to the south, turned to the plainswoman, and said, "Let's head back to the tent. All this excitement has me tired."

**-To Walk Like a Warrior-**

"So, let me get this straight," Lyn said as she stirred the contents of the cooking pot. It had taken them a fair amount of time to get back to the young woman's tent or ger as Lyn told him and night had taken over the land. Mark had just told her what he had done at Mor and she was finding it hard to believe.

She explained his plan aloud so that he, Mark, could hear how stupid it sounded. "You saw me get injured," she said, "and the first thing you thought of doing was to throw your sword at the gathering ger in hopes that it would cut a large number of ropes, making it unstable, and the wind would make the fabric fall onto the bandit I had in front of me."

"Yes," Mark answered as if it was the most obvious solution in the world. "You make it sound so stupid. I threw my sword at the top of the middle pole where all the ropes were anchored so it would cut as many ropes as possible."

"You never thought of using your sword to fight him?"

"It would have been too late. People, even experienced warriors, have a tendency to watch a flying weapon to make sure that it isn't coming at them. That gave me time to get closer to you and make the bandit take me into consideration before he could attack."

Lyn looked up at him. "You really thought that was the only thing that would work?"

"It had the best chances of success, yes."

She added some spices to the stew she was cooking. She looked like she was debating saying something and finally asked, "What are you going to do when your well enough to travel?"

"Not sure. Maybe I'll go to the nearest port city and catch a boat to wherever," he mused. "To be honest, I'm not sure. I'd feel bad leaving you alone with Rolidiad because while he is a good guy it can be trying to teach another a new language from scratch."

She looked at the fire again. She stared at it for a good long time and Mark entertained himself with watching her and the night sky. He picked out as many constellations he could find and took in the beauty of the stars.

"Would you mind if I came with?" she asked.

"Do what now?"

It was a bad idea. A terrible idea. He was a wanted man from Bern and the longer he was around this woman the more trouble she was in. He stopped his thoughts. He was a wanted man so that meant that people would be looking for a man who was acting like he was wanted but what if he did the opposite? What if he travelled with this woman and mysterious man?

His family knew how he thought and they would never expect him to travel with others. It was one of his things. If it was his problem it was his problem. He knew that it was hypocritical because he couldn't stand by and not help others but it was his thing. His family knew that so they would expect him to travel alone. So, if he was with a group he would be far safer.

Unaware of his internal thoughts, Lyn explained, "You are no doubt a great planner-"

"That's because I'm a tactician," Mark interrupted.

She gave him a look. "That is an odd profession to have. What were you doing in the Sacae Plains when I first found you?"

He smiled. "Planning."

That caused her to laugh lightly and her eyes sparkled with delight. "So," she said, "you, a master tactician who also uses a sword, me, your peerless warrior, and Rolidiad, umm..."

The language challenged man had laid down next to the fire and had his eyes closed. The only thing that told Mark that the man was still up were the occasional facial movements. He was listening to them talk which was good. Listening was a great way to learn a language.

"Our loyal puppy?" Mark offered.

Lyn threw a piece of bread at him laughing. It had been a long time since she last laughed and she felt that her life was going to get better from that day forward.

* * *

Please review, fav, and follow.

Until next time...  
-Unbiased Abyss


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

A few days passed before the group, Mark and Rolidiad really, felt rested enough to travel. Lyn had a bounce in her step from the time Mark had okayed their traveling together and planned their first destination to be Bulgar, the city of Sacae. Bulgar was one of the largest trading cities in Elibe and the only actual city, with rock and wood buildings, in the Sacae Plains.

Mark had his reservations about going to the city since someone might recognize him somehow but if he knew that the best way to avoid detection would be to go to the city. New clothes were needed and a serviceable sword since he lost the one Lyn gave to him. He yawned as he coached Rolidiad through a new set of words. He was teaching his language deprived friend Eliben by pointing at the many different things they saw on the way to the city and saying the name. Sure, it got a little repetitive to say, 'tree, rock, grass, horse-' and so one again and again but the faster the man learned the language the better.

Lyn said that the trip would take roughly a ten days since Rolidiad didn't have a horse but Mark scoffed at that. His horse was a brown Bern charger, well-known for their strength, and he persuaded the lilith woman to ride with him so that Rolidiad could ride her horse. Because of the riding arrangements they made great time, the trip only taking them a about a week.

Mark whistled as he dismounted from his horse. The city was large and there were several stables on the outskirts for people to keep their horses as they took in the sights and visited the many shops in the city. He had heard of Bulgar before but hearing about the city and seeing it were two completely different things. It was amazing to see the combination of several countries worth of architecture combined into one city. The wall surrounding the city was more a work of art than a form of defense with its sweeping lines, round towers, and bold gates.

Lyn dismounted after him and took the reins if his horse in her hands. She sighed and commented, "I still can't believe that you named your horse, Horse."

He grinned. Horse was a damn good name for the animal as far as he was concerned. It was a stupid mindless beast that, where other horses would run away from danger, went toward violence and new things with a curiosity that only a learned scholar or berserking warrior could rival. "Horse's name is Horse. I've been calling him that for years and it won't change because you find it demeaning."

She patted Horse's neck and said, "You have a very mean master, don't you?"

Horse knickered, whether in agreement or in delight at being patted Mark didn't know but he shot it a glare just in case.

"Rolidiad," Mark said and gave a short wave to the silent man as he come over to the duo with Lyn's horse, Kuthlea.

The black-haired man nodded toward him and the three stored their horses at a cheap stable. No sense in paying a lot if they weren't going to be at the city long.

Lyn took out a list from her traveling pouch and said, "It looks like we need: vulnerary, five days worth of food for use and the horses, a sword and new clothes for Mark, and whatever else we find that we might need." She put her list away and pointed at Rolidiad. She pointed back at herself and said, "Stay with us."

The man nodded slowly. Lyn and Mark had been trying to teach him short commands for situations that they come across and he had learned them ably.

The group spent a few hours looking around the shops for their items and anything else that perked their interest. Mark got an iron sword from one of the many blacksmiths showing their wares and the vulnerary came from a medicine woman who had her house open as her shop. Food was easy to get and Rolidiad carried the heavy sacks of grain and dried edibles against the many protests of Lyn. The man was strong, Mark had to give him that.

Mark purchased new clothes from a tailor and was now comfortably dressed in rough brown leather boots, tan pants that he tucked into his boots, a black shirt, a green cloak, and, at the insistence of Rolidiad, a brown hard leather tunic. He supposed that the protection of the leather was better than nothing since he had little doubt that his group would run into some kind of trouble in the future.

Near the end of their shopping experience they found themselves in a stone laid square. Shops lined the sides of it and performers gathered large flocks of people with their acts of grace, daring, or humor.

"You know, Mark," Lyn said as they entered the square, "you didn't have to pay for everything."

"Silly woman," he said as he shook his coin purse, a brown leather bag he kept tucked in his tunic until he could find a better place for it, "I have more than enough to pay for everything."

Lyn had been rather shocked when Mark had stopped at a coin exchange and exchanged a gold coin for ten silver ones. Gold coins were hard to come by, especially in the Sacae Plains. "How did you get so much coin, anyway?"

"Gambling," he replied. "Bad habit. Don't to it."

The blue-green-haired woman spotted a sword-dancer in the square and said, "Hold on, I want to watch this."

Mark looked at the dancer and said, "Sword-dancing originated in the Nabata Desert as a form of elegance and art. However, it is also a very dangerous style to go against in battle because it is based on of speed, agility, and precision strikes. The style has little form of defense, though, so if the user isn't fast enough or is injured then it is easy to force your way through it."

She glared at him and he sighed. "Yes, it is very pretty. Can we go now?"

"Hold on," she said, her eyes following the dancer's beautiful movements.

"Fine," Mark muttered. "Rolidiad and I will be over at the south road of this square." He patted his friend on the shoulder and said, "Let's go and get something to munch on."

Lyn didn't pay attention to them as they walked away. She lost herself to the mesmerizing movements of the dancer. The dancer was a young woman with flowing blue hair and a deeply tanned body. She wore little in the way of clothing, only enough to keep her privacy, so that the crowd could see her graceful lines and the beauty of the dance. She had a long curving sword in her right hand and a short dagger in her left and together they flew through the air, arced to the ground, and spun around their master's body in almost impossible elegance.

"Oh, my heart!" A male voice exclaimed loudly to Lyn's left. "What a dazzling vision of loveliness!"

She looked and saw a man who was slightly taller than her dawned in green armor timed with a dull gold color, white-tan pants, and a black long-sleeved shirt. He had brown hair that he kept out of his face with a black headband and green eyes. The thing that really got her attention, though, was that he was looking right at her.

"Umm," she said confused. She really had nothing else to say so she took one last glance at the sword-dancer and started to walk away.

"Wait, oh beauteous one!" he said loudly. He rushed to her and asked, "Would you favor me with your name? Or, better yet, your company?"

Lyn's eyes got hard and her cheeks would had flushed with embarrassment if her anger hadn't beaten it to death with a cudgel. "You speak your feelings freely, don't you, sir knight," she said. "Where might you be from?"

The man smiled a somewhat exaggerated smile and said, "I come from Lycia, where the knights are strong and brave."

"Well, sir knight, you would do best to return to your Lord before your tongue embarrasses them further," she huffed and left the man.

She had only gotten out of the crowd watching the dancer when another man stopped her. He had armor similar to the last but red, he had neatly kept orange hair, hard brown eyes, and his posture made him seem like he was ever alert.

"Excuse me, miss," he said.

Lyn stopped and looked pointedly at him. "Yes, sir knight," she said and couldn't help but add a bit of annoyance to her voice.

"Have I meet you somewhere before?" he asked as he studied her face.

Lyn almost had time to shake her head but was stopped when she heard the first knight she met yell, "Hey, no fair, Kent. I saw her first."

Any chance at talking to her vanished for the red knight at that point as she growled, "Are all you knights this way?"

She marched to where she could see Mark and Rolidiad waiting for her near the south road that led out of the city. Mark had apparently found a food vendor who was selling kolab, a heavily spiced venison mixed with several vegetables and wrapped in a leaf of lettuce.

As she reached the two, Mark took a massive bite of his kolab and some of it fell onto his tunic and cloak. She would have laughed if she wasn't as angry as she was. "Mark, Rolidiad, let's leave."

"Hold, mistress of beauty!" she heard the green knight yell behind her. "You can't possibly be seen in the presence of that slob!"

Mark heard him and yelled back, however his mouth was full so whatever he meant to say came out garbled nonsense. "Mof mu malfin ma malop!? Momibiap meer mf ma mifth miy, ma miff mangalwich mallanbed muff ma mifth miy! (Who are you calling a slob!? Rolidiad here is a nice guy, a bit language challenged but a nice guy!)" he yelled and bites of his food came tumbling from his mouth.

Lyn hid her smile with her hand and found it difficult to draw out her rage again. She didn't say anything to the knights as she hurried past her friends and she was happy that they followed her without question. She glanced back to see the knights arguing about something and Mark take another massive bite of his food. He gave her a happy smile that looked funny with his food stuffed cheeks.

She told the two men what happened as they neared the stable with their horses and Mark laughed openly about it.

"Lyn," he said between breaths, "got hit on by a Lycian knight."

"It's not funny," she pouted as she accepted the reins of her horse.

She was right, it wasn't funny. If these knights were truly from Lycia then they were at Bulgar for a reason. It couldn't be him since it took months to travel the great distance between the two countries but that didn't change the fact that they were there for a reason.

He continued to contemplate what the significance of the knight might have meant as he, too, took the reins of his horse from the stable hand. In fact, he was so lost in thought that he almost missed the man whisper, "Run!"

Run? Why in the world would he run and from what would he be running from? Sure, he may have been a wanted man from Bern but as far as he knew none in Bern knew where he had gone and had no way of finding him. he also hadn't done anything great or stupid enough to get noticed. So, what was he running from?

A large man exited the wooden stable and another from the small home attached to it. The stable was a fair distance out from the town and that made the price of housing a horse there cheaper than the ones closer. It was also a far enough distance for the town guard to be alerted in a timely manner. The rattle of metal on metal rang behind him and he guessed that there were three more that had hidden in the forest that lined the other side of the road. Great, now he knew what to run from.

Lyn and Rolidiad unsheathed their weapons in an instant and Mark readied his ultimate weapon. He aimed it carefully and fired with pinpoint accuracy. "What big axes you all have." Yep, that oughta stop them all dead in their tracks.

"You," the man who stepped out from the house said and pointed at Lyn. "Your Lyndis, ain't ya?"

A shocked look came over Lyn's face and she asked, "How do you know that name?"

"Yep," the man said. "It's her. Shame, me and the boys could have used you good but we ain't getting paid to keep you alive."

Mark brandished his sword and took stock of the situation they were in. Two bandits, one of which was the leader, were in front of them and three others were behind them. With three of them it seemed that one fo them would end up fighting against bad odds. Lyn didn't know how so she was out and he could hold his own against one opponent but he didn't really trust the little training he had gotten on fighting multiple enemies. That left Rolidiad and his black-haired friend must have come to the same conclusion or was stupidly confident in his skills because he faced his back toward Lyn and him and faced the three rear bandits alone.

It wasn't a bad idea. Mark and Lyn could fight their opponents in one on one combat and when they won they could support either Rolidiad or the other. Whichever needed the aid most.

"Lyn," he said in a strong confident voice, "You fight the guy who came from the house, I'll take the one from the stable. Rolidiad will hold off the three behind us until we are done. Stable-guy, you run to the city and alert the guards when you get the chance."

He didn't wait for Lyn to argue with him and was pleasantly surprised when she didn't hesitate to charge her opponent. She trusted him enough to listen to his orders, that was something he couldn't let down.

The brute he was up against had a large axe, customary of bandits since the weapon was easy to come by and relatively simple to wield. It was clear to Mark that the man had not training with the weapon as he swung in down at him in a wild attack but he more than made up for it with his power as the head of the axe bite deep into the well packed ground.

Chance. Mark rushed to man and jabbed in a fast stab to the heart but he seriously underestimated the strength of the bandit as the man ripped his axe from the ground and knocked his blade making the stab go high over his head. Mark was open, very open, and the bandit reversed his swing in a sloppy loss of power.

Mark's body moved almost on its own as his right foot took a quick step to the right and his body twisted. his left foot slide along the ground in a sweeping arc behind him and when the axe of the bandit hit the ground Mark was out of harms way and already sweeping his sword down on to the back of the man's neck. The head separated from the body easily but Mark didn't pay any mind to it as he rushed to Lyn's aid.

The bandit she was fighting was good or at least better than his subordinates because he was keeping the plainswoman moving in graceful dodges and twirling parries. Something about her movements caught his eyes and he realized that the woman had incorporated some of the sword-dancer's movements she had watched at the square. That was something he would talk to her about but the more pressing matter was stating alive and even if she was holding her own it was still close.

A roar to his right warned him to duck and roll and a bandit attacked him with a sweeping axe. He judged from the direction that the bandit came from that he had hidden in the house or stable, waiting for a good time to strike. That was actually smart. The yelling before he attacked, not so much, but it did cause Mark to question how many might still be in the house.

He brought his sword up in a high cross guard and caught another axe swipe.. The attack lid off of his sword and he went on the offensive with several cuts of his own but the bandit was better than Mark's last enemy and managed to block each of the attacks. They traded heated attacks but neither got anything out of the exchanges. The bandit was slow and powerful while Mark was weaker in comparison and faster and they seemed to cancel each other perfectly.

Getting nowhere fast Mark used his one advantage: his mind. He punched his brain in the stomach until it vomited a plan and when it did he put it into action. The bandit pulled his axe close to him when Mark started his own combo and as he swung his sword with his right hand his left slipped into his tunic. When he found was he was looking for he flung his left hand at the bandit. Seeing something suddenly start to fly at him, the bandit held his axe high to block the incoming weapon and Mark slipped under his guard. It was a simple upward jerk and the bandit dropped to the ground. A brown leather coin purse landed close to the dead corpse.

Mark shot a look at the stable and house. Lyn's fight had moved close to the joined buildings and movement from the house warned Mark of an ambush on his female friend. He shouted a warning and pushed his body to the extremes as he sprinted to get between Lyn and the house but everything seemed to move too slow. A bandit stomped out of the house, large axe raised, and ran right toward Lyn.

Mark cursed his stupidity. He should have seen something like this coming but he had honestly thought the bandits to stupid to plan a double ambush. He tried to push his body to go faster but he knew that it would be his fault that Lyn died. It would be his fault and there was nothing he could do about it.

He watched the axe fall towards the unaware woman's head. He could already imagine the axe lodging itself between her ears, effectively cutting her head in half. He could see it all in bloody detail and there was nothing he could do to stop it. All he could do was scream a warning ut it would be too little too late.

A high-pitched whistle was all the warning the bandit had before a javelin pierced his forearm and pined the descending limb to his head. It was a gruesome sight and one Mark had never seen before. His scream of horror changed to one of happy rage and he charged the bandit leader with a vigor  
he didn't know he had.

Lyn ducked when he got close and he preformed a powerful cross swing that the bandit caught with the haft of his axe. Lyn, at the same time, struck at the bandits knees forcing the man to take a step back. The leader raised his axe high and right to block an over head swing from Mark and had no time to stop that life ending slash from the plainswoman he almost succeeded in killing.

The man clutched his side and coughed up blood. "Damn it," he coughed, "...there...was only...supposed to be...a lone girl."

He fell to the ground, dead or dying, Mark didn't care which.

"Lyn, are you alright?" Mark worried as he looked her over.

She smiled at him. "I'm fine. A little tired but fine. Where's Rolidiad?"

That sent alarm bells off in his brain. He whipped around so fast the world blurred in his vision and when he found Rolidiad he saw that the man was walking over to them. Behind him were the bodies of four dead bandits which meant that another one had to have been waiting in the forest when the rest came out. Mark had trouble fighting one of the burly men but his mysterious friend apparently found fighting them easier than walking through a city. Who was this man?

"Umm," he said and pointed to the bodies, "I think he's fine."

"He took down four of them at once," Lyn gasped.

"Hail!" a familiar voice called out and Lyn looked to see the red knight from the city ride up on a brown steed. "Is everyone alright?" he asked.

"Fine," Mark answered. He looked at the bandit with a javelin stuck in him and asked, "Your handy work, I take it?"

"I thought the lady looked familiar and had to follow to ask her something. When I saw your position I was honor bound to provide aid," the man said as he dismounted.

"Thank St. Elimine you did," Mark said.

"You said something similar in Bulgar," Lyn said skeptically. "What was it you wanted to ask me, sir?"

The red knight went to his javelin, placed his foot on the corpse of the bandit, and jerked it out in one clean motion. "Kent, is my name, my lady. Does the name L-"

"Hold vagabonds for you opponent will be me!" a voice hollered and from the south of the group came the green knight. He had a sword raised high over his head and charged head on toward them.

Kent palmed his face and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

The green knight slowed and stopped in the middle of the bodies. He looked around and asked, "The fighting is over?"

"Yes, Sain," Kent groaned loudly. "I told you to wheel around to the south and sneak up on the enemy. What part of yelling like a madman fits into that plan?"

Sain looked somewhat put off and muttered, "Could have left one for me."

Lyn smirked. She looked back at the orange-haired knight and asked, "You were saying?"

"Does the name, Lyndis, mean anything to you?" he asked.

Lyn gave the man a hard look and said, "You are the second man to know that name, sir knight. The first was that bandit over there."

"Curses!" Kent barked. "Then he knows who you are."

"Listen," Mark butted in, "why don't you tell us everything that's going on and we can sort out everything from there. I don't like being kept in the dark."

"Yes," Kent agreed, "that seems like the easiest way to do it. As I said before, my name is Kent and my partner here is Sain," the green armored knight gave a dramatic bow. "We are knights of Lycia but more specifically we are knights of Caelin."

"That is quite a distance for two knights to travel," Lyn said.

"It was," Sain piped in, "but we are on a mission to find the granddaughter of Lord Hausen, the Marquess of Caelin."

"You see," Kent took back over, "about nineteen years ago Lord Hausen's daughter eloped from Caelin with a nomad of the Sacaen Plains. This enraged Lord Hausen and he disowned his daughter from his family and hoped to never see her again. However, time passed and he heard news that his daughter had given birth and he had become a grandfather without his knowing. That melted his heart and he immediately sent Sain and myself to find his daughter, her husband, and their child and take them back to Caelin to receive his apologize.

"He so desperately wants to see his daughter again before he dies because he has taken to bed recently and the court clerics and physicians know not what ails him. My lady, do the names Madelyn and Hassar sound familiar to you?"

Lyn covered his mouth in shock. "Those are my parents names but they passed away not but six months ago."

Kent nodded grimly. "We knew. Sain and I found out about their deaths when we arrived here but we also heard that their daughter, Lyn, still lived. The reason I thought you looked familiar, my lady Lyn, was because you look exactly like your late grandmother."

"This cannot be," Lyn muttered. "To think that I still have family out there."

"What of these men that attacked us?" Mark asked sternly. "They too knew Lyn's full name."

Sain jumped in and answered, "The Lord's brother, Lundgren, has always been jealous of his elder brother. It is well-known that he has wanted to rule Caelin for some time and there is no length that the monster wouldn't go."

"No doubt," Kent said, "those bandits were tipped off by one of Lundgren's men. If Lady Lyn died before she could reach Caelin there would be nothing to stop Lundgren from taking the Lordship when Lord Hausen passes."

"Oh, my dear grandfather," Lyn whispered. "Mark," she said and turned fully to him, "even though I have only known you a short time you have become one of my best friends but this is something that I must do. I have to go see my grandfather and if this Lundgren is trying to kill me to prevent my arrival then that is all the more reason that I must go. I would understand if you wished to go your own way from here."

She looked down half way through and Mark would have sworn that he heard her voice crack with emotion. He pondered his options. He could leave, write off Lyn from his life, head to a port city with Rolidiad if the man wanted to come, and set sail to wherever but doing something like that would have left a bad taste in his mouth. He was already wanted by Bern and would eventually have assassins on his tail so he really didn't have anything to lose going with Lyn. She was also his friend and friends don't abandon others with the going gets tough.

He raised his hand and flicked her square in the head. She looked up at him, shocked, and he said, "Foolish woman, over course I'll come with you. Who else will pull you out of any stupid situations that you might get yourself into. Not only that but Rolidiad would miss me terribly and we can't have that." He smiled.

She hugged him tightly and whispered, "Thank you, Mark."

* * *

Please review, fav, and follow.

I realize that Rolidiad is being made out to be very strong, that is intentional. It will make sense when it is revealed who Rolidiad is and where he is from but that won't be for a very long time.

Until next time...  
-Unbiased Abyss


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem.

* * *

Mark let out a happy groan as he stretched his sore muscles. It had been several hours since he and his friends had been ambushed and his muscles were screaming at him. The day was getting close to ending and he had called a stop to the group. Lyn's grandpa may have been dying but there was no sense in pushing the group after the ambush earlier that day.

The area they stopped was at a curve in the road where the small forest they were in opened enough for a camp. He glanced at the well used fire pit and tried to imagine how many had made use of it.

"Mark," Lyn, the long-haired beauty he traveled with, said as she walked over to him. "Can I talk with you?"

Mark looked around, seeing the knights getting the camp setup and Rolidiad taking care of the horses, and shrugged his shoulders. "We can't talk here?"

"Something a little more private would be nice," she replied.

"A walk then?" he suggested.

She agreed and the two left the camp. They walked for a while, going west into the forest until they met up with a river and then traveled along it to the north.

As they walked Mark asked, "What did you want to talk about?"

"First," Lyn said, "I want to thank you for coming with me. I realize that I have only known you for a short time but your opinion has become important to me and when I thought about going on this journey to see my apparent grandfather I knew that it would hinge on your answer."

"Why's that?"

She frowned and said slowly. "I don't know. It may be that you are the first real friend I have had since my tribe was..." She didn't finish.

"What about Rolidiad? We may not be able to understand him that well since he has only learned enough Eliben to speak in broken sentences but he would most likely have joined you if you had asked him."

"He is a good friend as well. I apologize, I didn't mean to sound like I didn't think of him as a friend but, that being said, because of the language barrier I have not been able to get to know him that well."

Mark nodded, his eyes taking in the scenery. "True. There is very little we know about our silent friend. He is obviously skilled at swordplay since he has taken down four enemies at once. I accept that they were untrained bandits but it is still quite the feat to boast. He is pretty intelligent since he is picking up Eliben faster than I would have thought possible, especially with no language we share to teach him from. However, all of that being said he has earned my trust and friendship. In time he will master Eliben and then we can pick his brain for details of his past. That is, if he is willing to share anything," Mark concluded.

He kept his thoughts about Rolidiad possibly knowing several languages to himself. He didn't like to openly suspect something if he didn't have solid reason too and his thoughts on the multiple languages was shaky at best.

"There is another I am interested to learn more about as well," Lyn stated.

"Who might that be?" Mark asked. He knew who she was talking and prepared himself for the best bullshitting he had ever done in his life.

She glanced at him and said, "You. You know much about me but I know very little about you. More than Rolidiad but he has an excuse."

He smiled. "I am not that interesting of guy, really. What did you want to know?"

"Where are you from? Family? Childhood? Anything would satisfy me. I just want to learn more about you."

He brought both of his hands behind his head as they walked and ponder what to say. It was well known that the best lies held truths in them so he would have to reveal some true information but there were some things he wouldn't be able to tell her, for example; his being part of the Struss family, a noble house whose name may be recognized by the two Caelin knights that now rode with them.

"Well," he started slowly, "I was born in Bern. I have an older brother and sister named, Gerald and Heather respectively. My parents, James and Sarah, are the owners of a tavern in the small town of, Edenvale. When I was fourteen I joined the city guard and served for four years."

"Fourteen?" she said shocked. "You were so young."

"It's not that young, actually," Mark commented. "Some of the boys I served with were twelve. After serving for four years I retired and went to live in the capital. I worked many odd jobs and allowed the years to pass me by. Finally, I got bored with it all and struck out on an adventure. Now, I'm here."

Lyn nodded thoughtfully. "So, you were part of the city guards? Were you good with a blade?"

He grinned and answered, "Better than I am now. It amazes me how much skill and instinct a person can lose if they don't touch a blade for four years."

"Then," Lyn said and unsheathed her sword, "lets work at breaking that rust and while we are doing that I can get more comfortable with my fighting style. Going through motions and fighting imaginary foes can only do so much. Fighting against those bandits has shown me that."

Mark took off his cloak and unsheathed his blade. "Alright then. Till first blood."

The spar was intense and enjoyable. It lasted half an hour from Marks guess and from the previous fight he had been in earlier that day he could already feel some on his skill coming back. It wasn't all lost to him and that was good. He hadn't lied to Lyn about not touching a blade for four years and by St. Elimine did it show.

After the impromptu spar they started back to the camp. Mark felt more tired than he did before but it was a good tired and he got a sadistic pride from the limp that Lyn had. He had taught her a valuable lesson in swordplay: every part of the sword was usable in combat. The hilt of a sword can hurt like a son of a bitch if one is hit by it.

Mark beat down his pride and turned his mind to more serious matters. "What are we going to do about those knights?"

Lyn looked at him, puzzled, and asked, "What do you mean?"

He sighed. "I mean, do we trust them? Do we poke them for more information? Hell, do we choose to believe them?"

"They seem genuine and know things that only my parents or family could know. So, yes I trust them. Don't you?"

"There are very few I trust in this world," Mark admitted. "I trust you and Rolidiad because you two have earned it but these knights," he shook his head, "I don't trust them whatsoever. They could be with this Lundgren for all we know and slit our throats when we sleep."

"Don't you think you are being a little too paranoid?" she asked. "Besides, why would they have saved us from that ambush if they wanted us dead?"

"That is the only reason we're with them. However, that doesn't totally excuse them from my suspicions. If this Ludgren is as merciless as I suspect him to be then I wouldn't put it past him to have tipped off those bandits and have his agents save us from harm to gain our trust. Why trust an ambush to work when you can simply have you agents gain your enemies trust and slight their throats in their sleep."

Lyn chewed over what Mark said. She had come to trust and respect his intelligence. He may act like a foolish idiot sometimes but under it all was an intellect to be feared. She was glad she could call him friend.

"Alright," she conceded. "We'll keep an eye on them until they show their true colors but that doesn't mean you can walk around with a suspicious look on your face. Give them a chance at the very least."

"All I ask is that you keep up your guard around them," Mark said quietly. He glanced at her leg and asked, "How's the leg?"

"It hurts but I'd rather suffer pain during sparring than have to deal with it in an actual fight." She clenched her hands in to fists and muttered, "I have to get stronger."

"Why?" he asked and when she looked at him in confusion he clarified. "Why do you have to get stronger. What's your motivation?"

"To protect those I care about," she answered with conviction.

Mark nodded slowly. "So, what about a stranger?"

"What?"

"Would you protect a stranger?"

"Of course," she said and checked over her shoulder. It was a habit that Mark had told her to get into. If assassins were after her she would have to get used to checking behind her every so often.

"Why? You don't know them and as such can't care for them all that much."

"I would protect them because it is the right thing to do."

"What if, by protecting this stranger, you knew that someone in your party would die? What would you do then?"

She stayed silent as she thought.

"Your reason for getting stronger, Lyn, is to protect the world from itself and that is an impossible feat. You would have to become a tyrant and limit people's ability to choose so that they can't hurt themselves or others."

"Than what should I fight for?" she asked.

Mark smiled and said, "Only a very simple person can put their ideals to words. We humans are so complex and, often times, irrational that words can never hope to fully describe our convictions. If you fight for your convictions none can twist their meaning with words."

Lyn was silent for the rest of the walk as she pondered Mark's words. There were many tales of heros being tricked by evil witches or monstrous dragons because their reasons for fights had been turned against them and he had just demonstrated how her's could be twisted as well. Fight for her convictions, her own reasons. Reasons that can't be described fully be words. She would remember that.

The two exited the woods and found their camp set up with a warm fire casting a glow over the site. Night had laid claim to the land and it the cold was coming with it.

Sain looked up at them from his spot on a log and when his eyes landed on Lyn he bounded over to her. "Oh, Lady Lyn," he said in a grandiose manner, "every moment you beauty is away pains me and this long absence of yours nearly slayed me."

Lyn smiled and said, "Sorry. I wanted to talk to Mark about a few things."

"My lady," the green knight said, "if you wished to talk to someone then bless me with thy voice and bestow on me the whispers of your heart."

Mark grinned and said, "I like him."

Sain's face filled with happiness and he took a single step away from Lyn to better look at the brown-haired man. "Ah, Sir Mark, were you attempting to steal away the Lady before night so that she might warm herself with you?" he asked accusingly.

Lyn's face went red and Mark barked with laughter. "I really like him," he said when his breath was under his control. "No, Sain, Lyn-"

"Lady Lyn," Sain corrected.

Mark gave him a look and said, "Lyn," he paused and when the knight didn't say anything he continued, "just wanted to talk to me about a few things. Mostly, where were we going, how to get there, and the like."

"Understandable," Kent said. The orange-haired man was stirring something in a pot and it smelt like heaven. "Lady Lyn," he said, "has never been outside of Sacaen before or at least as far as I am aware." He looked at her questioningly.

"You're right," she said as she sat down on a log that was set near the fire. "This may be the furthest from home I have ever been actually."

"If that's true," Mark said as he flopped onto the dirt right next to the fire, "then this journey will show you just how big Elibe is." He folded his arms in front of him and laid his head in them.

Kent frowned and asked, "Sir Mark, have you traveled much?"

"Not really," he said though it was hard to hear since he was speaking into his arms. "But, I'm from Bern and that place takes forever to get around."

"Then how would you know the route to Caelin?" the red knight asked.

Oh, he was good. Kent had noticed that it would be unlikely that Mark would know the route to Caelin from anywhere in Sacaen because he was from Bern and not well-traveled. Mark smiled to himself. He would have to be careful around the red knight it seemed.

"In Bern," Mark lied masterfully, "I worked for a cartographer. An old man who like to talk about the places he's been. It was inevitable that I would learn even a little about Elibe and its major routes. However, I suspect that Lundgren has men watching the main roads and as such we should take a more roundabout approach."

"I agree. With the bandits Lundgren hired dead he will have to wait sometime before he realizes that a messenger bird won't be coming. It takes a bird roughly three weeks to make the trip so that gives us about five to six weeks, depending on where he sends orders, to vanish as best we can."

Mark's smile got larger. Kent was really good. Mark had already considered all of that a few minutes after the ambush was over. Having planned for a defense against an assault from Lycia for some time he had learned all the major ways in and out of the country. Those were the routes that the Lycian armies would take and it was advantageous to have them memorized. He also learned some of the less used routes that scouts and spies took. Who would have thought that knowledge would come in helpful in a situation like this?

"Any suggestions for a route to take?" Mark asked. He couldn't bring up the ones he knew about. Kent was already suspicious of him, Mark guessed it was because the knight didn't know him and as such didn't trust him, and bringing up routes that even the knight might not know about would be bad.

Kent nodded. "I planned a route just incase something like this happened."

He explained it to the group and Mark was impressed. The route was one that he knew about and approved of. It was the most direct route they could take without going on the main roads and with Lyn's grandpappy sick time wasn't really something they could toy with all that much.

"We have a plan," Sain said happily. "There is something I am curious about though.'

"What's that?" Lyn asked.

Sain pointed at Rolidiad. "Him. He hasn't said a word since I've first laid eyes on him and when I introduced myself he ignored me."

Lyn laughed into her hand. "I should have told you and Kent this sooner. His name is Rolidiad and he doesn't know Eliben."

"He doesn't?" Kent questioned.

"Not a bit. Mark and I have been teaching him since we first met a little over a week ago so he doesn't know enough to communicate at the moment," she said and smiled at the she was talking about.

"That is, interesting. Where did you meet him?" Kent asked.

Lyn looked at Mark and he took it as a her asking how much she should say. He rolled over onto his back and said, "Lyn found him and me injured and unconscious in the Sacaen plains near her home. We haven't managed to figure out what happened to Rolidiad for obvious reasons and I had suffer a bad burn to my left arm from rolling into my camp fire a week or two before. The arm got infected and then Lyn found me."

Kent looked at him suspiciously and Lyn must have noticed because she cleared her throat and said, "I know that the circumstances around my meeting Mark and Rolidiad are strange but I have come to call them both friend and I trust each of them with my life. If they wanted my life they have had ample opportunities to take it. That is more than I can say about you knights."

Kent turned his eyes to her and Sain gasped. The green knight placed his hands over his heart and said, "You wound me, my Lady. I would never do you harm. If you don't believe me, take my blade and pierce mine heart for I can't take the weight of your disapproval."

Kent studied her while his friend spoke. When Sain finished he said, "You're right to not trust us. If I were in your position I certainly wouldn't." He opened his hands toward her. "I have nothing that can prove or disprove our loyalties as sufficiently as would be choice of what to do with us is yours."

Lyn held a hard look at both of the knights but dropped it after a few seconds with a sigh. "I'll trust you both, for now. But if you two do anything that calls your loyalty into question I will act."

"That is acceptable," Kent said and a rare smile crossed his face,

Sain hollered with joy and hooted, "A maiden of mercy has spared my life! My loyalty will never stray, Lady Lyn."

She laughed and the group ate the meal that Kent had been preparing. Through it they talked, shared stories, and Sain sang a song about a knight and a fair maiden.

Lyn, laughing from a joke that Sain told, looked to Mark and said, "I know that the plan has already been made but can we stop at a shrine about a weeks journey from here? It is to the south and not that far out-of-the-way."

Mark traded looks with Kent and shrugged his shoulders. "I don't see why not."

"What is the shrine for?" Kent asked.

"A sacred blade is housed there," Lyn replied. "It is tradition for any Sacaen who is beginning a long journey to go to the shrine and pray for safety for them and their party."

"What a quaint tradition your people have, Lady Lyn," Sain commented. "Would it be too much to ask if I might pray at said shrine myself?"

"All are welcome, Sain," she said.

Mark poked her shoulder and asked, "Out of curiosity, what sword is housed there?"

She turned to him, her eyes holding a child like glee, and said, "It is called the Mani Kati."

**-To Walk Like a Warrior-**

The group travelled south, parallel with the main road, for five days before heading to the shrine that Lyn spoke of. She had been right, it wasn't too far out-of-the-way and got them farther from the main road which was a bonus. The road to the shrine was well-travelled and had ruts in the ground from the many wagons that made use of it.

It was on the seventh day, one day faster that Kent and Mark predicted, that the shrine came into sight. The nomads of Sacaen never really built permanent structures but the shine was an exception. Using the tannish rocks in the area, the nomads of old built a humble place for the blade they held sacred. There were no arches, statues, or murals that decorated the churches of St. Elimine but the shrine held a unique beauty that would have been marred if anything was added to it.

Mark scanned the building and his mind automatically noted and strong defensive points and the weak structural points in the building. The building while simple, was rather large and could easily hold about a hundred people with room to spare. The building had a forest growing in a half-circle behind it and it looked like it belonged right where it was as if it was a part of the natural landscape around it.

"I must say," Sain said, "it is not as grand of some of the temples to St. Elimine that I have been too but it holds its own grace."

Lyn turned around on the horse her and Mark were riding and said, "We Sacaen only build to house things we hold as holy or sacred. That is why there are so few buildings and even fewer ruins in Sacaen."

Mark nudged her and jerked his head toward the front of him. Lyn turned back around and saw a middle aged woman hurrying over to them. Her face was white with fear and she kept glancing back at the shrine.

"Excuse me!" she yelled. "Are you all going to the shrine?"

The woman spoke so fast that Mark almost missed what she said but Lyn must have heard it fine because she answered without hesitation, "Yes, we are. If there a problem?"

"The shrine is being pillaged!" the woman screamed. "You must save Scalar Mishif. He stood against those villains so that several of the visitors could get away." She looked back at the shrine and muttered, "He is so old, I fear for him."

"How many entrances are there to the shrine?" Mark asked in a commanding tone.

The old woman looked at him and said, "There is just one, sir, the main entrance. As I fled I thought I saw five of the ruffians but I didn't get a good look."

"What are we going to do, Mark?"

Mark dismounted from Horse and Lyn followed his lead. He pointed at Rolidiad and said, "Down, boy."

The man did as told and Lyn smacked the back of Mark's head but the smirk on her face showed her true feelings about the joke.

"Okay," Mark started, "here's what we are going to do. Lyn, Rolidiad, and myself will sneak up to the entrance and when I give the signal," he made a chopping motion with his hand, "Kent and Sain will charge in with on their horses. With the commotion that they make, we will be able to come in at their heels almost unnoticed and dispatch any who are in our way. We don't really know how many are in the shrine so keep your eyes open for enemies."

Having sparred every day since the left Bulger, he and Lyn had grown a bit more confident in their skills. Each of them sparred with Rolidiad twice and the grey-eyed man managed to teach both of them some things even with his limited vocabulary. He had also sparred against each of the knights and knew that he could rely on their skills in combat. Sain was skilled with a sword and Kent was lethal with his spear.

"A sound plan," Kent commented. "Sain, we should stay out of sight from the entrance until the last possible moment."

Sain placed a fist to his chest and announced, "We will wipe clean the filth that dare defile this holy place."

Mark grinned. "Alright, get into positions people."

Having little in the way of armor, Mark and his group moved as silently as they could to the entrance of the shrine. When they made it to the wall of the shrine they moved along it to the entrance where Mark peered inside.

The inside was large and had six support pillars placed evenly to hold the weight of the roof. At the far end was a small stone pedestal with an empty sword stand on it. That wasn't good but he would deal with it later. He counted five enemies: four held axes and the last held a sword. He took one more look around and pulled back from the entrance.

He told Lyn and Rolidiad what he saw and then looked to the knights. Kent and Sain had moved down the road a short ways and he waved his hand over his head. Kent waved back to acknowledge that he could see them and Mark chopped the air.

Kent and Sain urged their mounts into a controlled gallop and the sound of the pounding hooves grew louder as they neared the entrance. Not a second before they burst into the building did a man stick his head out. Mark saw his eyes widen and then Sain's sword split his head in half. Blood splashed onto the walls and a call of warning went up in the shrine.

Mark rushed in and took stock of the situation. Sain had killed one enemy at the entrance and he and Kent were charging another. That left three more to be dealt with and he spotted them hurrying to the stone pedestal.

"Lets go!" he called and ran toward the pedestal.

He could hear Lyn's soft steps and Roldiad's louder, heavier ones behind him and he called a battle cry as they neared the pedestal. The two behind him yelled too and their voices reverberated off the walls of the shrine amplifying the intensity to near deafening levels.

Mark brought a heavy swipe down on one of the scoundrels but was thwarted from an early victory due to the man blocking it skillfully with his axe. Mark side-stepped and swiped at the man's side. He met with the same results. This guy was good and knew how to deal with swordsman which meant that the other villain, the one with the sword, had sparred with them regularly.

He blocked a combo attack from the man and returned with his own and the clashes of the other battles fill Mark's ears. Rolidiad had taken on the other axe user and Lyn had gone against the swordsman. He had confidence that both of them could beat their opponents and he brought his full attention onto his enemy.

The man, growing over-confident or restless with the fight, roared and lunged at Mark. Seeing an opportunity, the man from Bern didn't back away from the attack but moved closer to the man. He ducked under the attack and looked into the shocked face of the bandit as he stabbed his sword into his belly. His angled his sword up and gave it a push. Blood leaked from the bandit's mouth and his muscles relaxed causing him to fall toward Mark.

Mark pushed his opponents dead body to the side and let it drop to the floor as he took stock of the other battles. It seemed that the knights had handled their opponent and Rolidiad dropped his with a quick stroke that separated the scoundrel's head from his body. However, he could still hear the clash of weapons and that meant, he looked towards Lyn's fight and watched her execute a string of attacks that the swordsman caught and countered.

Lyn was a beautiful woman, none could deny that. Mark, for one, appreciated her beauty and made sure to take in her figure multiple times a day. This involved walking behind her often and watching her when she wasn't looking at him. He was confident in his ability to appreciate the female gender and not get caught as he had much practice at it back in Bern. Lyn was most certainly a beautiful woman but when she was in a fight her was a goddess.

Her figure, clothed in only a light plain's dress, was perfection made human however that perfection only really showed in the heat of battle and she danced gracefully around her opponent. She had little strength to her but she more than made up for it with her natural speed and agility and it showed as she maneuvered around her foe.

Mark watched, almost mesmerized, as she ducked and weaved around her enemies blade. She would strike out when she saw an opening and who be gifted with a red ribbon on her opponent's flesh. The blood loss took its toll and the man slowed even as Mark watched. It was a simple thing for the plainswoman to end him after that.

Mark shook his head and rushed over to her. Her chest moved rapidly with her breathing and he looked her over to see if she was injured.

"I'm fine, Mark," she said with a slight blush on her face when he walked behind her and obviously looked at her rear.

"Battle high can block out most pains," he responded as he walked around her. "I've seen men fight on after getting run through and others gain many wounds that eventually claimed them. You may think that you're fine but that may not be the case."

She gritted her teeth and growled, "You had better not be saying that just to look at my butt."

Mark looked into her eyes and smirked.

"You pervert!" she called and moved to hit him.

He did his best to move out of her way but her fist connected soundly with his head even with all his efforts."Ouch," he whimpered. "You didn't have to hit me."

"And you didn't have to make all of that stuff up about 'battle high'," she commented.

Rolidiad walked over to her and looked her up and down.

She groaned, "Not you too, Rolidiad."

The black-haired man smiled softly and said slowly, "He was right."

She nodded. It was rare for the man to speak and when he did it was slow so that if he made mistakes they could correct them. She knew Rolidiad wasn't one to just say things that weren't true and she accepted what Mark said as fact. "He still deserved to be hit," she pouted.

"Oh, my darling madam of glorious beauty," Sain said as he hurried over to her. "Are you alright? Has any check you for wounds?"

She sighed and muttered, "Yes, Mark did."

Sain looked at the man in question and Mark flashed a grin as he gave the knight a thumbs up.

"Everyone is alright then?" Kent asked. He was walking down the middle of the shrine after bringing the horses outside.

"Everyone's fine!" Mark called.

The sound of a door creaking open echoed in the large room and a skinny old man came out of a room behind the pedestal. He was bald and had the green and blue robes of a religious man of Sacaen.

"Are they gone?" he asked with a voice hoarse with age.

Lyn went to him and bowed deeply. "They are dead, Scalar."

Sadness deepened the lines of his face and he muttered, "May they find peace." He look up at Lyn and the others and stated, "I take it you five are responsible."

"Yes, Scalar," Lyn said and bowed again.

The old man waved at her and said, "Don't bow to me, child. you saved my life and protected the Mani Kati from theft. I have little in the way of reward for this dead but I can allow one in your group to touch the Mani Kati as they pray. That is all I can offer."

Lyn smiled and said, "We came here to pray and the honor of touching the sacred blade if payment enough." She looked at Mark and said, "You are our leader, Mark. It is only right that you do the honors."

"Bullshit," Mark remarked. "I have no attachments to the blade unlike someone of the plains, like yourself. If any should have to honor, hell, if anyone in this group of ours had the right to touch the blade it is you."

Lyn's face didn't change but Mark saw her eyes fill with child like excitement.

She turned to the old priest, bowed, and said, "I would be honored to pray while touching the Mani Kati, though I do not deserve it."

The old man smiled fondly and said, "There is little in life that is deserved, good and bad, child."

He held out a long cloth-covered item and slowly removed the fine material to reveal a black leather sheath, a brown leather wrapped sheath, and a metal guard and counter-weight.

"It looks like a typical blade," Kent whispered.

Mark looked at him and said quietly, "Does it matter how it looks? It doesn't matter what something looks like but what they represent that matters."

He looked back and watched Lyn reach her hand to the blade. Her delicate fingers shook as they brushed the sheath and then the entire weapon started to glow. She jerked her hand back and started at the blade.

"Pull the blade from its resting place," the Scalar instructed.

Lyn looked at him and back to the sacred blade. She grabbed the hilt with hesitant confidence and pulled it free of the leather sheath.

"I never thought I would see the day," the old man said in awe.

"W-what?" Lyn stuttered.

"You," he said, "are the wielder of the Mani Kati. Legends said that one day the wielder would come but to think it would be in my lifetime."

"I'm...the wielder," she said slowly. "But wait, I can't take the Mani Kati with me."

The old man held out the sheath to her and said, "You must. The Mani Kati has chosen you to be its wielder. That is evident by that fact that none but you can pull its blade from its sheath."

After much urging from the old Scalar, Lyn took the Mani Kati blade from its shrine. She vowed to return it when she stopped fighting so that it could choose another wielder in the future.

Kent and Mark discussed their course and they group started south but unknown to them were threats and challenges that they would have to conquer to reach their goal.

* * *

Please note that Mark was partially lying to Lyn when he was talking about his past. That is why there are discrepancies between what he told her and what his past actually is.

As always fav, follow, and review.

Until next time...  
-Unbiased Abyss


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I don't own Fire Emblem.

Sorry about the long absence. I have been working on other stories and this one kind of went onto the back burned. I'm not going to lie, it still is on the back burner but I will be working on this whenever I get the urge.

For anyone interested, myself and my cousin (Adam) have started a Youtube channel and are currently doing a let's play of Fire Emblem 7. If you're interested check us out on the channel 3greyleaves.

Enjoy...

* * *

"Let's have some fun boys!"

Mark cursed as he kicked open the door he had been hiding behind. The door swung open and smacked right into a rather large and scary looking man. Mark charged past him as he staggered, snatched the tiny girl up from between the other men surrounding her, slapped the pegasi on the rump causing it to kick, and crashed though the men that were in his way.

He held the girl from around the waist and didn't take the time to set her down and, instead, bolted down the road looking back only long enough to see the flying horse take off into the air. The lavender-haired girl eeped and Mark about tripped. If he hadn't been in a life or death situation he would have teased the holy hell out of the girl for the absolutely adorable sound but filed it away as something he could do when he wasn't in the middle of running from potential death.

He kicked himself mentally for allowing himself to get into the situation. He and the group he was travelling with had stopped in a town to stay at the inn. He had secured their rooms, remarking the many sins of gambling as he forked over thirty copper pieces, and gave Kent and Lyn keys to they respective rooms. He had failed at getting Lyn to let him sleep in her room and had then went out to search the town. He saw a pegasus fly over head and his curiosity had dragged him into a shop and into the situation he was in now.

He really hated his damnable curiosity sometimes and this was definitely one of those times. He rounded a corner and immediately shot into the nearest building. He dropped the girl, slammed the door shut and waited for the men to pass. Sure enough, not a moment later the sound of yelling and the clanging of metal greeted his ears and passed the house without slowing.

He sighed and put his back on the door.

"Mind telling me what you're doing in my home?" a male voice asked.

Mark looked up and saw an arrow pointed right at him. If it had just been an arrow he wouldn't have been concerned but the arrow was attached to a bow and the brown-haired man holding said bow didn't look the least bit happy.

"Funny story," Mark started as his wit and sarcastic nature kicked in. What could he say, it was a reflex for him, a bad one, but a reflex nonetheless. "You see, the girl and I saw this house and just had to see the inside of it. Turns out it isn't that impressive." An arrow slammed into the wood next to his head and another arrow was notched before Mark could even register what happened.

"Did I say not impressive," Mark stammered, "I meant that it's lovely. I like it and I would like it a lot better if I didn't die in it. You know, blood is a pain to get out of wood. The stain just never goes away." Another arrow in the wood and he got the hint to shut up.

"I'll ask you again," the man said. "What are you doing in my house?"

Mark looked down at the girl who looked between the two with fright in her eyes and said, "Hiding."

"From?"

"Not sure really but I think the young woman here can answer it," he answered as he gestured to the girl.

The man looked down and his face went white. "Oh, I'm sorry." He set his bow and arrow on a table near him and continued, "I didn't see you there. I apologize for my bad manners and scaring you like that."

Mark's mind whirled at the sudden change in the man and felt a little peeved at the way he was treated.

The girl still looked at the man with fear but seemed to accept his apology. She made to stand but stopped when the man offered her his hand. She stared at it in mounting fear.

The girl's odd fear toward the man struck a chord with Mark and he said, "I think she's afraid of men."

She whipped her head toward him so fast that he was shock that she didn't break her own neck and eeped again.

"Now if that ain't the cutest damn thing I've heard in a long while," Mark drawled. "We're not going to hurt you, miss. Why would I have risked my own life to get you away from those men just to hurt you myself?"

She nodded slowly but the fear didn't leave her eyes. Eventually Mark and the stranger got her seated on a chair at what appeared to be a dining table. She looked between them in quick motions and would flinch when one of them opened their mouths to speak.

Mark didn't get frustrated with the girl. He had seen something like this once before in his life and if it was the same thing than the girl deserved his patience. He moved slowly and turned to address the man who had so rudely shot at him twice with a bow and said, "You have a strange way of welcoming guests."

"You have a strange definition of guest," the man countered. "Wil's the name." He offered his hand in the same slow movements that Mark had done.

"Mark," he said as he shook the man's hand. Calluses littered the man's hand and he could feel a few on the tips of the man's fingers as well. That information combined with the expert shots with the bow earlier made Mark conclude that the man was an archer of some skill. Goodness he was smart sometimes, even when he was concluding the obvious.

"You're an archer?" Mark questioned.

"I hunt," he answered and the girl did her cute little eep. Wil looked at her and asked, "What's the matter?"

"She is a pegasus knight of Ilia," Mark said. "I'm not surprised that she might be instinctually cautious of bows, even if the one wielding it is a friend."

Wil's eyes widened and he muttered, "A pegasus knight, I've never seen one before."

"Getting back to the relevant situation at hand," Mark said and addressed the girl who had her shoulders hunched over and tried to hide herself as much as she could, "who might you be and just what did you do to piss those guys off?"

She mumbled something in a soft, feminine voice but it was too quiet for either of the men to hear.

"One more time," Mark said and placed his hand behind his ear to indicate that she needed to speak louder.

She squirmed and said with a stutter, "I landed on one of them with Huey."

Neither of the men said anything and the silence in the room was absolute. A rumble started in Mark's chest and Wil soon joined. The rumbling got louder and louder until both the men were laughing loudly. Wil held his gut as he hunched over in his chair and Mark fell onto the floor and rolled too-and-fro. The girl hunched over a little more but her lips arched in a small smile.

"You," Mark gasped between bouts of laughter, "landed on him?"

She nodded and the two men laughed even harder.

Wil managed to get control of himself and asked, "How did that happen?"

"He came out of a house that I was landing next too and I...didn't see him," she stammered.

Mark continued in a gasping chuckle but his mind was active. Those men were rough and had the mentality of brigands. It was easy to tell since they had planned on taking the young girl for their entertainment and that took a very specific mindset to consider such a thing. He thought about what she said again and something made him curious.

"Those men," he asked, "were they carrying anything that you could see? I'm afraid that in my heroic saving of you I missed the opportunity to get a good look at them."

She put her finger to her chin and Mark had to mentally restrain himself from making a very unmanly noise. "One of them," she said with her endearing stutter, "had a brown sack large enough that it would be used for travel."

"That's not something you would expect to see someone walking around with inside a town," Mark commented. He tilted his head and asked, "You know, I never caught your name."

"Sorry," she said and her eyes widened. "My name's Florina."

Wil smiled and asked, "I've never seen a pegasus knight before, what are you doing so far south?"

"I'm looking for a friend of mine," she said.

Mark leaned back in his chair and tilted it onto the back to legs. "What's your friend's name? Perhaps one of us knows them."

"I doubt it," Florina replied. "She's lived in the Sacae Plains all her life and only recently came south from what I gathered in Mor. Her name is Lyn, she's of the Lorca tribe."

Mark reeled. It really was a small world. "Does she have long greenish blue-hair, average height, and wears a blue plainsman outfit?"

"You know her?" she gasped in excitement and appeared to forget about her shyness for that one second.

Mark smirked, "No, I'm just a damn good guesser. Yeah, I know her, we're traveling together."

"Can you take me to her?" she asked with hope and conviction in her eyes.

"I don't see why not," he answered.

Florina stood up from the table and stopped as if she had just realized something. "Where's Huey?" she asked slowly but the fright that built-in her eyes was visible for the world to see.

"The pegasus is fine. He took off when I grabbed you. If he is as well-trained as most pegasus mounts than he should land when he sees you," Mark said as he stood and walked toward the door.

Wil stood from the table and asked, "Do you mind if I come with?"

"The more the merrier," Mark said loudly.

He moved to the door and stopped when he heard talking coming from the other side.

"This is where we lost them," a gruff voice said.

"Well they must be around here somewhere," a familiar voice said and Mark placed it with the man he had heard talking to Florina before he made his valiant move. "Check the houses. They may have gone into one of them. The pegasus will land when he was the girl and then we can sell the beast and do what we will with the girl."

"What about the man?"

"Kill 'em!"

The sound of weapons leaving sheaths came and Mark knew that they first house they would check was this one. It was the first one on the corner and they were right next to it.

"Wil," he said as he took a few steps from the door, "it appears we are about to be attacked. Do you have another exit?"

"In the kitchen," the man said as he picked up his bow and unconsciously nocked an arrow.

"Very good. Would you mind shooting anyone that come barging through that door?"

Wil grinned. "It would be my pleasure."

Mark nodded and held out a hand to Florina. "If you don't mind," he said, "would it be bothersome to trouble you for a walk?"

She hesitated and Mark didn't make any movements as she worked up the courage to talk his hand. When she did he marveled at how such a small girl, she couldn't have been a hair over five feet, had such a strong grip but when he thought about flying and holding onto the reins for dear life it made sense.

He walked through an open doorway, into the kitchen, and to the back door. Wil moved in behind them and pointed his bow to the front door there was a pause of silence and then the door Wil faced burst open with wood chips flying everywhere. The twang of a bow signaled that the archer had begun his firing and Mark opened the back door.

Wil covered their reverse charge, retreat being a foreign word to Mark, and they worked their way through a narrow alley. Mark ran as fast as he dared and exited the alley into the main road. He glanced around quickly and was pleasantly surprised that there were no rough looking men there to greet them. He hurried across the street where a major road intersected with the one he was on and looked back to see Wil hurrying to them.

"I got three," he said and shot a look over his shoulder. "I think there are four more but I can't be certain."

"One never is in battle," Mark commented and turned into a shop.

It was a smithy and a burly man stood behind the light wood counter. The ex-noble took a quick interest with an iron-tipped lance that was presented on one of the walls and kept an eye on the entrance. He took the lance down, lifted it a few times, frowned, and put it back. Another lance caught his eye and he snatched it up. The shaft of the lance was thin when compared to others that he had seen and the tip was made to fit the small thing. It felt fragile in his hands and he feared that is would break if used in battle.

"Tell me, good sir," he called to the blacksmith, "will this weapon stand up to battle?"

The man rubbed his head and put on a happy smile. "Its been a long time since I've been a good sir. But, to answer your question, aye that lance is fit for battle. I of't get merchants looking for lighter lances so that they can carry more back to their market easier and I made that lance with the merchants in mind. I've tested it on straw and wood dummies and it holds up fine."

Mark nodded and handed the lance to Florina. She took it from him and with the way she held it he knew that she had been trained to use a lance in both land and aerial combat. "Mind if we test it ourselves?"

Before the man could answer another man burst into the store with a sword in his hand. Mark thought about the time it took for the man to get to the store and figured that he must have taken cover in the alley until he was sure Wil wasn't firing anymore arrows at them. The man looked around and when he spotted them he roared.

The man charged and Mark reached to draw his own sword but it was unnecessary. Florina, the small girl who looked like she couldn't kill a fly, lunged past him and jabbed with the skill of an expert right toward the man's chest. The swordsman hopped back just in time and knocked the lance to the side. Florina, a face of pure focus and determination, didn't seemed worried and raised the shaft of the lance at an angle to block the swordsman's downward swung.

Mark ducked and rolled behind the lavender-haired girl and watched as she skillfully maneuvered the long spear in the cramped space of the room. The whistle of an arrow shrieked into the store and an arrow found a home in the wood near Mark's head.

"Wil," he bellowed in a commanding voice, "the archer!"

Wil stumbled around a wooden rack filled with an assortment of weapons and shot an arrow off but was far from hitting its target. He sidestepped, got better footing, and tried again.

"What's going uughf!" the blacksmith yelled and knocked down when the door bend his counter opened into him.

Two men came from what must have been the smithy and climbed the counter. Mark cut them off from attacking either Wil or Florina and stood against both of them with grim regard.

"Give us the girl and no one has to die," one of the men growled.

Mark looked at them with a mix of anger and annoyance. "You know, I've killed over fifty men with a single word. What makes you think I'm afraid of you?"

They bared their teeth and charged him. Mark parried a blow from an axe and stepped out of the way of another. Mark marveled at his skill now that the rust was finally coming off. He had spared with Lyn and Rolidiad almost every day and it was paying off. There may have been two opponents but they were not even close to as graceful and fast as Lyn and Rolidiad's power dwarfed both of these men combined.

He continued on the defensive, executing a twirling style that he had learned from his brother, Gerald. Gerald used a two-handed weapon and the style was made to parry faster opponents that might have otherwise given him a hard time. Mark didn't have a two-handed weapon but had adapted the style to work with a one-handed weapon. His brother called the style, Iron Wall, and Mark knew why, none had ever broken through the style, not once.

Mark wasn't even close to as good as his brother when it came to combat but he had enough skill to put the adapted style to use and it worked perfectly as he parried, blocked, and out maneuvered his two opponents. He waited until he saw an opening, took it, and was left with only one enemy.

"How are you so strong?" the man barked.

Mark smiled and said, "That would be telling."

A few quick strokes and the man dropped dead at his feet. Mark turned to help the other two but Florina had dispatched her enemy and just as he looked, Wil let an arrow fly and it found a home in the chest of a men across the street.

Mark looked over the two of them and when he was satisfied that they were fine he turned to the blacksmith who had just risen from the floor. "We'll take the lance," he said as if the battle hadn't taken place.

**-To Walk like a Warrior-**

"Lyn!" Florina said in a slightly louder voice than her typical quiet one.

Lyn, who was sitting in the inn that they were staying at, looked at the short girl in shock and said, "Florina, what are you doing here?"

Mark allowed the two of them to talk and found a seat at the bar. He ordered a mug of ale from the bartender and sipped at it. He nodded when a familiar brown-hair man sat next to him.

"That was entertaining," the man said.

Mark gave him a look and commented, "You have an odd view of entertainment."

"And you have an odd view of guest," Wil remarked which made Mark smile.

"How long have you lived in this city?" Mark asked and took another sip of his ale.

Wil waved at the innkeeper, ordered an ale for himself, and said, "Not long. A friend of mine owns that house you found me in but I have a feeling he won't want me staying after this."

"Ever think of being a mercenary?"

Wil thanked the innkeeper for the ale and answered, "I've considered it."

"We could use an archer."

"I could use the money."

Mark grinned and held up his mug. "Welcome aboard."

Wil clanged his mug with Mark's and said, "Happy to be aboard."

Mark took a gulp and heard Sain say loudly, "Oh, Maiden Florina, we could be a mercenary group and you could travel with us. Why, we could be called, Lyndis's Legion."

Mark smirked into his mug of ale. Lyndis's Legion, what a way of slapping Lundgren in the face. Word would eventually reach the man about this 'Legion' and he will most likely be quite cross about it. The man already knew they were coming so there was no point in trying to hide it and Mark found a sick satisfaction in proverbially slapping the man across the face.

* * *

Please review, fav, and follow.

I'm curious, would anyone be upset if I started to skip a few chapters in the game? PM me your thoughts.

Until next time...  
-Unbiased Abyss


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